A Marriage of Inconvenience
by La Rose Noire
Summary: HGSS with a dash of HGDM. Based loosely (very, very loosely) on the WIKTT Marriage Law challenge. Fluff and fun, no death destruction, angst or mayhem.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Ah, yes, my first foray into Harry Potter fanfiction. I'll get better, I promise. (I mean, it can't be THAT much harder, right?) This is dedicated with thanks to all those writers who toil endlessly producing all the wonderful stories I so look forward to reading. The gift you give with your words is greatly appreciated, much more than you know.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.  
  
"Love is a feeling, Marriage is a contract, and a Relationship is work."  
  
- Lori Gordon  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Hermione hummed as she strolled down the corridor to the headmaster's office. Really, this was turning out to be an absolutely wonderful year. After the fall of Voldemort at the end of the last school year, it was like a black cloud had lifted from the school. The teachers smiled again, inter house rivalries lost their deadly edge and Harry, well, Harry was free, and for the first time in his life, he could plan on a future he knew he would live to see.  
  
And of course, she thought happily, she was Head Girl, which was no doubt why she was on her way to see Dumbledore. Since school had started last September, she'd been called to his office at least weekly for private meetings. She loved the little tea time chats where they would discuss student concerns and activities, the rebuilding of the wizarding world, and the bright future that lay before her.  
  
"Parma Violets." Hermione dutifully recited the password to the vigilant gargoyle and stepped onto the staircase, quickly ascending to the headmaster's office. Stepping briskly out of the staircase alcove, she searched for any sign of her host. "Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Ah.Miss Granger." The headmaster suddenly appeared before her, and she jumped a bit, startled despite herself. "Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. Please, come in and have a seat." She soon found herself ensconced in her usual comfortable armchair in front of his desk, surrounded by a cup of tea and a plate of tea sandwiches and sweet treats.  
  
She sipped and nibbled, waiting politely for him to begin the conversation. When the silence dragged on, she looked up at the man sitting across the desk silently with his fingers steepled in front of him, gazing at her solemnly. What she saw almost made her heart stop.  
  
Professor Dumbledore wasn't twinkling.  
  
Hermione could count on one hand the number of times in the last seven years she had seen Professor Dumbledore without the patented twinkle in his eyes, and they had all had something to do with death, destruction or Voldemorte.  
  
Her mouth suddenly dry, she struggled to swallow the bit of biscuit caught in her throat as she carefully placed her tea cup on the table next to her.  
  
"Professor...what's wrong?" Her mind flew, considering and discarding possibilities. "Is it my parents? Has something happened to them?" She congratulated herself when her voice didn't shake, and folded her hands carefully on her lap, preparing herself for the worst.  
  
Dumbledore leaned forward and stretched out a hand as if to banish her worries, gazing at her benevolently over the top of his glasses. "Calm yourself, child. Your parents are fine, I assure you. I asked you to come here today because we need to discuss something that concerns your future."  
  
Hermione relaxed in her chair a bit. They'd had many long discussions concerning her future: university study vs. apprenticeship, the pros and cons of various specializations, how her talents could best be used in the coming years to help rebuild the world she had come to call her own. "What exactly did you want to discuss, sir?"  
  
"What do you know about the new Marriage Law that was enacted by the Ministry last week?"  
  
Hermione snorted delicately then flushed, somewhat embarrassed at letting her opinion be known in that fashion. Sitting up straight, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and began to recite, unconsciously mimicking what she had done a thousand times in the classroom. "The "Preservation of the Wizarding Population Act", commonly called "The Marriage Law," was enacted by the Ministry of Magic in response to the recent loss of life resulting from the fall of Voldemorte, and to address concerns raised by the recent study by researchers at St. Mungo's regarding the low birth rate, high infant mortality rate and dramatic rise in the number of squibs within the wizarding population. The Ministry determined that the best way to insure a strong, healthy increase in the population was to make sure that individuals of child bearing age were given an incentive to have children, and that the best way to insure that those children would be born healthy and with demonstrable magical ability was to eliminate the inbreeding that has been the hallmark of wizarding society. The Act therefore states that all males and females currently between the ages of eighteen and fifty who were not married or betrothed by magical binding on the effective date of the Act must marry within six months, or within six months of turning eighteen. Wizards and witches of pure blood families must marry a wizard or witch of muggle or half-muggle extraction, and all marriages will remain intact, the individuals magically bound, until at least two children are born of the union; after the birth of the second child, marriages may be dissolved in accordance with wizarding law. A list of all eligible wizards and witches in the age range cited in the Act will be updated weekly, and access to that list and pertinent biographical data will be granted to all individuals on the list as well as their family Head of House. All offers of marriage must be made through the Ministry, and wizards and witches with multiple offers received within 14 working days of each other will be given the option of choosing their spouse from the offers approved by the Ministry. Refusal to comply with the law will result in the immediate confiscation of the wand belonging to the individual in question and the revocation of all magical licences and permits issued by the Ministry."  
  
Hermione sat back, pleased with her memory. "Did I forget anything, sir?"  
  
Dumbledore chuckled, and a shadow of a twinkle reappeared in his eyes. "No, Miss Granger, as usual, your grasp of the facts was thorough and your recounting concise."  
  
She smiled. "I am, for obvious reasons, particularly interested in the Marriage Law; all the seventh years are. Believe me, I'm not the only one totally incensed that the Ministry sees fit to treat us like breeding stock! But Ron, Harry and I got an owl from Mr. Weasley the day the Act was passed, and he assured us that people within the Ministry are working night and day to put an end to it, and that with all the opposition that has come forward, it won't last more than the six months it takes to get a law repealed."  
  
The headmaster sighed. "Yes. Well. Much can happen in six months, I'm afraid." He removed a roll of parchment from somewhere in his voluminous robes and slid it across the desk towards her. "This arrived for you this morning."  
  
Hermione stood and reached for the parchment, puzzled. Her breath caught as she turned it in her hands and recognized the official seal of the Ministry of Magic. She broke the seal and opened it carefully, read it over quickly, then dropped into the chair behind her and reread it again, slowly. "I don't understand. This can't be correct. I can't be on the Marriage Eligibility List! I won't be 18 until September!  
  
"I am afraid, Miss Granger, that that is not quite accurate. Though you will, indeed, celebrate your 18th birthday this coming September, you were eighteen years old as of yesterday."  
  
"But - " Dumbledore held up a hand and Hermione cut off the rest of her protest.  
  
"You remember the Time Turner you used your third year, do you not, Miss Granger? It seems you did more than simply add a few hours a day for your classes. According to the Ministry, which automatically keeps track of such things, you managed to add almost 8 months to your life."  
  
Hermione's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Oh. I didn't think...I didn't know I had used it that much. I just needed to study more, there was so much homework with all the extra classes, so much I wanted to research.. ." She thought over the ramifications of this new bit of news, and shook her head. "Nevertheless, this is ridiculous! They can't change a person's age just like that! What if I had used my Time Turner to somehow go back in time? Would they have deducted from my age?"  
  
Dumbledore chuckled. "No, my dear, I'm afraid not. Though you certainly raise an interesting point, I am afraid it is moot. You know the rules regarding time travel. No one is allowed to use a Time Turner to go back in the past; it is forbidden. The fact remains that according to Ministry records you are, indeed, eighteen, and therefore subject to the Act."  
  
Hermoine placed the Ministry notice carefully on the edge of his desk and took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm on the list. But that doesn't mean anything. The Act should still be repealed before my six months is up. It's not like I've received an actual offer."  
  
Her eyes widened as Dumbledore pulled out another parchment and slid it across the desk towards her. "This arrived for you an hour ago. I am afraid, Miss Granger, that in addition to your sterling academic achievements, you have achieved a certain amount of notoriety thanks to your part in the unhappy events of last spring. I expect you will be receiving quite a few offers in the coming days, and that this is merely the first of many."  
  
Hermoine stared at the offending parchment in horror for a long moment before her Gryffindor courage surfaced and she reached out and snatched it up. Opening it, she scanned the contents quickly.  
  
"Do you know what this is!?!" Hermione's cheeks had flushed pink, creating bright spots of colour on her otherwise pale countenance. "It's an offer of marriage from that arrogant git, Draco Malfoy!" 


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.  
  
"A great marriage is not when the 'perfect couple' comes together.  
It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences."  
- Dave Meurer  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Dumbledore stifled a laugh and looked grave. "Really, Miss Granger. It doesn't do to have the Head Girl calling the Head Boy names, no matter how upsetting you may find the present situation."  
  
Hermione scowled. "Fine. Then do you know what this is? It's an offer of marriage from that evil, arrogant, untrustworthy git Lucius Malfoy on behalf of his son. The nerve of that man! How could he possibly do something this...this...insane?"  
  
The headmaster settled back in his chair, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Mr. Malfoy is following protocol, I'm afraid. Young Draco may be eighteen, but his father is still the Head of the House of Malfoy, and all offers of marriage should, by rights, come from him."  
  
"I don't care! It's...it's...OUTRAGEOUS! After everything he's done, everything he's said, now he decides he wants me to marry that demon spawn of a son of his? I don't think so! I'll break my wand myself and go live as a muggle before I agree to have that bastard as a father-in-law!" Hermione's hands were shaking as she folded the offending parchments and stuffed them into her robes.  
  
"Language, Miss Granger! I would hate to have to take house points." Dumbledore looked sternly over his glasses at the girl in front of him. "Please, I beg you, outbursts such as this do not help the situation. Purposely breaking one's wand is a serious act with severe magical consequences, and should not even be spoken of in haste."  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. "You're right, sir. I'm sorry. It would be better to put my energy into finding a way out of this whole nightmare." She nibbled on her lower lip thoughtfully. "The Ministry obviously knows I received the offer. Since today is Monday, I have until two weeks from this Friday to find a way out of this, or to accept another offer. Maybe Ron..." Her heart twisted a little in her chest at the thought. She'd worked so hard to keep their friendship intact after he'd confessed his feelings for her last summer. Telling him she didn't love him the same way he professed to love her had been the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. Marrying him could destroy their friendship - and both of them as well.  
  
"I'm afraid young Mr. Weasley has some months to go before he is eighteen. He cannot make an offer for your hand before the Ministry deadline," the headmaster informed her matter of factly.  
  
"But Malfoy is only - wait, you said he was already eighteen! How can that be?" Hermione looked at the older man suspiciously.  
  
"Draco started at Hogwart's a bit later than usual, at his father's request. He was schooled privately before coming to us, and Mr. Malfoy wanted the boy to complete his course of instruction before sending him to school."  
  
Hermione huffed softly. "I bet I know just the sort of thing they were teaching him." Given that she had already been reprimanded twice, she decided not to elaborate.  
  
"Miss Granger." The headmaster leaned forward, forearms on his desk, hands folded, the lenses of his glasses sparkling a bit in the soft light. "Give yourself some time to adjust to the situation and think about things. It is almost time for the evening meal. Eat. Enjoy time with your friends. Get a good night's rest. Things have a way of working themselves out if you give them time." He rose and before she realized what was happening she found herself standing in front of the staircase alcove again.  
  
"Um...thank you, Professor." She wasn't quite sure what she was thanking him for, but her inborn sense of propriety dictated she say it anyway.  
  
"You're welcome, child. If you have any questions, or need anyone to talk to, please feel free to come and see me or Professor McGonagall at any time." Noting her look of horror, he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder in reassurance. "As your Head of House, the professor must be informed of the situation. Please, do not worry yourself; her sense of discretion is impeccable."  
  
Hermione nodded her head. "I trust her - I do. It's just...I really don't want the whole school to know. It's bad enough I'm going to have to tell Harry and Ron about all this. I don't think I could stand all the gossip, especially if everyone finds out about Malfoy." She spit the name out in disgust.  
  
"I'm afraid, Miss Granger, that you aren't going to be able to keep the fact that your name is on the Marriage Eligibility List a secret for very long. I advise you to give some thought to how you wish to handle the attention before the fact becomes common knowledge. Now run along before we are both missed in the Great Hall." Dumbledore smiled at her benevolently and she found herself trying to smile back.  
  
"Good evening, Professor."  
  
Good evening, Miss Granger."  
  
As she turned to step into the staircase alcove and begin her descent, her attention was caught by the headmaster's outstretched arm.  
  
"Lemon drop?"  
  
Darn. She had almost gotten away this time.  
  
  
Hermione moved down the corridor towards the Great Hall, totally oblivious to the other students around her. More than a few moved quickly out of her way to avoid being run over, and no one acknowledged her passing. Everyone knew what that look on her face meant. Hermione Granger was Thinking, and interrupting her would only get your head bitten off.  
  
She was within sight of the doors to the Great Hall when she was pulled up short by a sharp tug on her robe.  
  
"Oy! Hermione!" The fingers didn't let go, just tugged harder. "Wait up! Didn't you hear us calling you? We've been chasing you through half the bloody castle!"  
  
She turned and looked up into the flushed face of her best friend, the red blush on his cheeks making his freckles stand out in sharp relief. She smiled at him and he dropped his hold on her robe, scrubbing his hand through his disheveled hair as the blush grew stronger.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't hear you. I was thinking about something."  
  
Hermione felt a hand drop on her shoulder. "Is something wrong, Hermione?" She turned to Harry, a denial on her lips, but it died when she saw the concerned look in his eyes.  
  
"Nothing that can't wait, Harry. I'll tell you later, I promise." Harry and Ron automatically fell into their usual places on either side of her, and they continued on towards the Great Hall. Hermione tried to pay attention to the conversation, to stop thinking about the contents of the parchment that kept sticking into her side through her robes, but it wasn't easy. She had to force herself to focus and actually concentrate on making sense of the words her friends were saying.  
  
Which is why she didn't notice when the boys stopped moving. If Harry hadn't caught her around the waist, stopping her, she would have gone barreling into the body that was standing in front of her. She opened her mouth to apologize, but the words died on her lips as looked up and caught a glimpse of steel blue eyes. She swayed a little and Harry's grip tightened, steadying her.  
  
"Move, Malfoy." Harry's voice was neutral. It had been a year since the unspoken truce had been declared between the trio and Malfoy and his followers, and the rules dictated neither courtesy nor outright hostility. The younger Malfoy, much to the surprise of Harry and his friends, hadn't aided the Death Eaters in the final battle with Voldemorte the year before, but he hadn't actively opposed them, either. An uneasy détente had been reached after Voldemorte's fall, one that all parties carefully observed.  
  
"In a minute, Potter." Draco's eyes flicked briefly over Harry before coming to rest on Hermione's face. "I believe you and I have something to talk about, Granger." Her heart dropped at his words. She should have expected this, but she hadn't had time to think it all through yet. She just couldn't do this. She wasn't ready.  
  
"Granger? Are you listening to me?" Her breath caught in her throat as a half smile graced his lips, and she to forced herself to move her gaze from his mouth and look up into his eyes, only to find herself wondering, yet again, exactly what colour they were. He really had the most extraordinary eyes, neither grey, nor blue, but some uncanny combination. As his smile grew, she silently cursed herself and her damn hormones. It didn't matter what colour his eyes were or how good looking he was, didn't they realize this was no time to be distracted?  
  
She tilted her chin up and folded her arms in front of her chest. "You must be mistaken, Malfoy. We have nothing to talk about. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to be late for dinner."  
  
Harry stepped forward as Draco's eyes narrowed, but the blond cut him off before he could speak. "Your choice. If you really want to hold this conversation out here with an audience, I have no problem with that, but propriety dictates that any discussion of mar -"  
  
"Fine!" Hermione's voice was high and strained. "We'll talk. Later."  
  
"Later," Draco agreed with a self satisfied smirk. "I'll meet you in our common room after rounds. And Granger..." His voice held a note of warning. "Don't try and hide, or we'll have our little discussion over breakfast tomorrow in the Great Hall." He nodded his head at Harry and Ron perfunctorily. "Potter. Weasley." He managed to drag the redhead's name out and twist the sound to make it an aspersion.  
  
Hermione sighed with relief as Draco turned and headed towards the Great Hall, waiting until he had a good head start before following him. Harry and Ron hurried to catch up with her. She carefully avoided looking at either of them, still conscious of their puzzled looks, and wasn't surprised when Harry cleared his throat. As usual, he was the one elected to deal with her when things were difficult. "Hermione."  
  
"After dinner, Harry. Please. I'll tell you everything after dinner." Ron opened the door to the Great Hall and stood back to let her pass. She looked up at him and smiled in thanks, trying not to feel guilty over the worried look on his face.  
  
She didn't know who she was looking forward to talking to less tonight, Harry and Ron, or Malfoy. 


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.  
  
A/N: Don't worry, I promise Severus will get his major turn on stage soon. First, however, the other players must all be in place. After all, he does so love to make an entrance!  
  
"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with  
the same person."  
- Mignon McLaughlin  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Hermione pushed the food around on her plate, trying to work out the best way to tell Ron and Harry about the events of the last few hours. She could feel Ginny watching her from across the table, but didn't dare look up. She didn't think she could stand one more person asking her questions right now.  
  
"This is the best stew. Even better than Mum's, and that's saying something." Ron helped himself to another plate full, and poked Hermione in the arm, motioning to the basket full of bread in front of Harry who was sitting on the other side of her. "Do you mind, Hermione? Harry's being a bread hog." She absentmindedly passed him the basket and went back to rearranging her food.  
  
"Speaking of Mum, did she owl you today? I haven't heard from her in days." Ginny motioned to her chin, and her brother took the hint, swallowed then wiped his own before answering.  
  
"Yeah, I got a letter today. I was supposed to pass it along to you, but I didn't get a chance to finish it."  
  
"Honestly, Ron! I'm going to tell her to stop sending them to you first if you keep this up. I want to see that letter as soon as we get back to the common room."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "No need to get your knickers in a twist, Gin, I've got it here somewhere." He patted his robes until he heard the telltale crinkle of parchment and pulled out the letter triumphantly, then tossed it across to his sister. "I only made it about half way through the part about Bill's baby. Honestly, you'd think the woman had never seen a baby before. She's had seven of her own, what's the big deal?"  
  
"Jeremy is her first grandchild; of course she's excited!" His sister gave him a long suffering look before starting the letter. For a long time, the only sound was the sound of Ron chewing and Ginny turning pages as she read. Hermione could feel Harry's eyes on her and took a bite of her dinner, trying to act normal.  
  
"Oh, no!" Ginny dropped the letter, barely missing her plate, and Ron and Harry immediately turned to her.  
  
"What's the matter, Gin?" Ron's asked, concerned. "Is everything alright at home?"  
  
Hermione looked over at the younger girl, and realized she was looking at her. "This is awful! I'm so sorry, Hermione! Isn't there anything you can do?"  
  
Hermione went cold, wondering just what Ginny knew. She opened her mouth to ask, trying to figure out a way to move the discussion to a more private place, when she was cut off.  
  
"About what?" Ron leaned over and grabbed the letter off the table and started scanning the page quickly. "Bloody hell, Hermione! You're on that stupid list!" As usual, his voice carried to both ends of the table, and she closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere else. "What's the matter with those stupid Ministry gits, anyway? The Law says you go on the list when you turn 18. You aren't 18 yet!"  
  
Maybe if she kept her eyes closed, it would all go away. "Am, too. Time turner." Hermione felt Harry's arm go around her and squeeze gently.  
  
"It's okay, Hermione. As long as you don't get any offers, you're safe, and they can't make you marry anyone yet. The law will be history before the six months is up, you'll see."  
  
She tried to keep her expression neutral, but knew she was failing miserably.  
  
"You've already gotten one, haven't you!?!" Ron grabbed her arm, turned her to face him, and shook her until she opened her eyes.  
  
"I don't want to talk about this here, Ron. Let's discuss this later." She watched his face go from pale to pink to fuschia to beet red in an instant and knew there was nothing she could do to avoid the explosion.  
  
"WHO? I want to know who, Hermione. Who'd you get an offer from?" Without meaning to she glanced over at the Slytherin table and met the amused gaze of Draco Malfoy. Dinner forgotten, all his attention was on the little scene unfolding across the hall.  
  
She pulled her eyes away from him, but not before he smirked and winked at her. She felt herself blush and tried to stand with as much dignity as possible, difficult as Ron still hadn't let go of her arm. "Oh, no, you don't! I want to know who asked you to marry them, and I want to know now." His voice reverberated through the hall. She would have given anything at that moment if she could have just apparated.  
  
Embarrassment and anger warred within her, and finally anger won. Hermione pried Ron's fingers from her arm and turned to look up into his red face, her eyes flashing gold. When she spoke, she did so slowly and carefully, but it didn't mask her fury, and her voice rang through the Great Hall. "I don't know what business it is of yours, Ronald Weasley, but since you just have to know, and you have to know NOW, Draco Malfoy has asked me to marry him."  
  
Not waiting for a reaction, she turned on her heel and swept away, her robes billowing behind her in a manner that would have made Snape proud.  
  
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Everyone's eyes were riveted on the sight of the young woman storming out of the hall, head held high, so no one noticed when the potions master, normally the most graceful of men, dropped his goblet of water, drenching his robes. Taking a deep breath, he cast a quick drying spell and calmly refilled his glass, calculating just how long it would be before he could corner the headmaster for a little chat.  
  
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It really couldn't have gone any better. Draco would have laughed out loud with glee, but he had an image to maintain, so he contented himself with simply smirking and helping himself to a large serving of pudding. He could feel the eyes of the other Slytherins upon him, and wondered who would be brave enough to ask him about Weasley's little tantrum. He hoped it would be Pansy.  
  
If he was going to get Granger, he needed to start working quickly. There was no time for subterfuge - no matter how much his Slytherin instincts reveled in it - or for unnecessary impediments. Having Pansy ask would kill two birds with one stone.  
  
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Harry sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes before putting them back on and going to stand by his friend. "Ron." The redhead just continued to stare at the doors to the Great Hall. "Ron?"  
  
Ron turned Harry, a look of shock and horror on his face. "Do you think she was telling the truth, Harry?"  
  
Harry's response was cut off by a shrill scream from the direction of the Slytherin table, which he easily recognized as belonging to Pansy Parkinson, and he sighed again. "Yes, Ron, I'm afraid she was."  
  
Slinging an arm over his shoulders, he led his stunned friend away from the table towards the doors, wondering just how they were going to deal with this one. 


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.  
  
"Marriage is the only war in which you sleep with the enemy."  
- Anonymous  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Hermione had no destination in mind as she left the Great Hall. She let her feet carry her where they would, and she wasn't the least bit surprised when she found herself at the door to the library. She made her way inside quietly and, without really looking, grabbed a book and settled herself in the deepest, darkest corner she could find. For once in her life, she wasn't in the mood for homework - she knew she didn't need to worry about getting behind, considering she was a good two weeks ahead in all work that had already been assigned - so she decided to lose herself in a good book and try to pretend her life hadn't suddenly turned into a nightmare.  
  
Luckily "Hogwarts: A History" proved to be as fascinating the 57th time as it had been the first.  
  
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She did feel somewhat guilty as she headed back to the Head Girl's room after making her rounds of the castle halls late that night. Not because of points she had deducted - she was always scrupulously fair and gave everyone the benefit of the doubt - or because of the lack of homework completed for the day, but because she knew she couldn't avoid Harry and Ron - and yes, Ginny - forever. No matter how hard she'd tried, though, she just hadn't been able to make herself seek them out and talk about everything that happened. She knew it wasn't very Gryffindor of her to avoid the issue, but she figured she had shown enough courage and bravery during the battle against Voldemorte to keep her place in her house. It wasn't like that silly hat was going to resort her into Ravenclaw over a little avoidance behaviour, now, was it?  
  
It wasn't until she had stepped across the threshold to the Head Boy and Girl's shared common room that Hermione remembered her friends weren't the only ones she wanted to avoid talking to.  
  
She thought for a moment that Malfoy was asleep, but as she started to creep softly across the room to the safety of her bedroom, his eyes opened. Blinking slowly, he sat up straight in the armchair by the fire and pinned her with his gaze. "About time, Granger. Why don't you get comfortable. This may take awhile."  
  
Hermione sighed in resignation and shrugged her robe off her shoulders, folding it and placing it carefully across the back of the sofa next to his sloppily placed garment. Rounding the couch carefully, she reluctantly sat down in the armchair across from his, folded her hands in her lap and crossed her ankles primly. "It's late, Malfoy, and we both have classes tomorrow. Please be brief. What did you want to talk to me about?" Her tone was polite and formal.  
  
Draco smirked. "After that little performance tonight at dinner, I would say we have a lot to talk about, wouldn't you?"  
  
Hermione felt the heat in her cheeks and cursed herself for letting him make her blush. "No. I don't. I don't know what can possibly have possessed your father to make me an offer of marriage on your behalf, but -"  
  
Draco cut her off. "Honestly, Granger, THINK. It's not all that hard to figure out. Use that amazing brain of yours."  
  
"Think!?! About what? How much he hates 'mudbloods', particularly 'mudbloods' who happen to be magically adept and get top marks in all their classes, beating his precious heir for top of the class in everything? Or maybe I should think about how many muggles he killed or tortured in his years of service to Voldemorte, or how many times he tried to kill me or those close to me before he decided, at the last minute, that he was on the losing side and ran to the Ministry to offer his assistance."  
  
Draco didn't look the least perturbed by her assessment of his father's character. "Think. The answer should be obvious, Granger."  
  
Hermione shook her head and threw up her hands in defeat. "I don't get it, Malfoy. I can't think of anything that would tell me WHY. I just don't understand why your father would something so...so...insane!"  
  
Draco shook his head in mock disappointment ."Granger, Granger, Granger. To get the answer you're looking for, the question you need to answer first is, 'Why does a Slytherin do anything?'"  
  
Hermione thought for a moment. "Because there's something in it for him?"  
  
"Exactly. How better for Lucius to prove to those fools at the Ministry - who, for excellent reasons, don't really believe in his change of heart, even if they are willing to take his money - that he is a changed man than to be one of the first of the old line pure bloods to welcome a mud - muggle born witch into the family?"  
  
Hermione stared into the fire, thinking about Lucius' reasoning for a moment, then nodded her head slowly in agreement. "I understand what you mean about what he can gain with the Ministry. But why ask me!?! There are lots of muggle born witches on the list, and none of them have the same...history with him that I do."  
  
"True. But none of them are as brilliant, or as powerful, or as famous as you are, either. Overall, you are the best the list has to offer, and a Malfoy never settles for less than the best in anything. It took me awhile to get him to see that, of course, but he came around eventually." Draco picked up a glass of something that looked suspiciously like wine and took a drink.  
  
"You WANTED him to make me an offer?"  
  
"Of course. Close your mouth, darling, gaping like that is terribly unattractive." He smirked at her over the rim of his glass.  
  
Her mouth snapped shut, but her look of incredulity remained. "Why would you -" She jumped up and paced around the room before turning to look at him again. "No, let me guess. There's something in it for you."  
  
"Exactly." He placed his glass carefully on the side table and contemplated it while twisting it a around by the stem, watching the wine swirl in the glass. "Quite a lot in it for me, actually. Do you know how many pure blood witches there are in my age group that are considered good enough to marry the Malfoy heir? Bloody few, and they are, to put it mildly, all incredibly unattractive or thick as a plank, if not both. This law of the Ministry's was the answer to a prayer. If I'm going to have to marry - and make no mistake, as an only child I have no choice in the matter - I intend to marry someone I can enjoy looking at AND talking to." He looked up and smiled up at her suddenly, the first real smile she had ever seen from him, and the beauty of it took her breath away for a moment. "Someone like you, Granger."  
  
"Someone like me," she repeated stupidly, half of her brain still contemplating how unfair it was that someone so awful could be so good looking. "But you don't even like me!"  
  
"When did I say that?" he asked. "Actually, I like you quite alot. I have since oh, second year, I think." He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "Hard not to like a girl who slaps like you do. No other girl has ever dared to do that, you know, and that just made my tendresse towards you that much stronger. Given your unfortunate bloodline and your house, though, it really wouldn't have done for me to let on that I didn't despise you, now would it? And if it makes you feel any better, I really can't stand Potter and Weasley. I don't know why you put up with them."  
  
Hermione felt as though her world had been turned on its end. "You like me." She closed her eyes and grabbed the back of the sofa in front of her for support. "You like me and you actually WANT to marry me."  
  
"Exactly." Draco stood, yawned and stretched. "Now you just notify the Ministry tomorrow that you accept and that will be that."  
  
Hermione's eyes popped open. "No, that will NOT be that! I'm not marrying you just because you decide it's a good idea!" She cringed a little at the note of hysteria in her voice then decided that, after everything that had happened that day, she was entitled. "Why on earth would I want to marry you?"  
  
Draco crossed over to stand beside her, looking down at her in puzzlement. "I'm a MALFOY, that's why. Even with all the...setbacks our family has had lately, we are still one of THE families of the wizarding world. As my wife, you would have wealth, status - and me. What more could you want?"  
  
Hermione made a strangled noise deep in her throat and stomped her foot in frustration, hands on her hips. "I cannot be bought! I don't want to get married. I don't WANT your wealth, or your status, or YOU, Malfoy!"  
  
Draco smiled a devilish smile and reached forward to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. "It isn't nice to lie, Granger...especially when you are so very bad at it. You may not care much for wealth or status, perhaps, but I do believe there are quite a few other, shall we say, benefits to being Mrs. Draco Malfoy that you would enjoy thoroughly." His finger trailed from her ear over her cheek softly, and she shivered.  
  
Hermione tried to gather her scattered thoughts and mount a defense. This whole conversation was getting out of hand and had to end now. "No! This whole marriage idea of yours is ridiculous, Malfoy! The whole thing is completely and utterly daft! Your father was a Death Eater, for goodness sake! For all I know, you were, too!"  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow. "I am not responsible for the decisions Lucius made, or for who he may have chosen to follow. I am my own man, and I make my own choices." He unbuttoned his left cuff and pushed his sleeve up, baring the smooth white skin of his forearm, and held it in front of her face. "See? No dark mark here, Granger."  
  
She stepped back, shaking her head, not willing to concede the point even though she'd never really thought he'd been a follower of the dark lord. "That doesn't prove anything. Even Voldemorte wouldn't have been stupid enough to put a the dark mark where everyone at school could see it!" Hermione's eyes widened as his fingers flew down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning buttons. "What are you doing!?!"  
  
He shrugged his shirt off and threw it behind him and his hands dropped to the front of his trousers. "You won't believe I don't carry the dark mark, so I'm letting you see for yourself, of course. I don't want us to start married life with any misconceptions between us."  
  
Hermione's hands grabbed his frantically, yanking them away before he could start work on the zipper. "No! I believe you!" She looked up and caught sight of his chest, noticing for the first time the well defined muscles and smooth, pale skin. A long moment later she realized she was staring and turned her head away, blushing.  
  
Draco noted her reaction with amusement. "What's the matter, Granger, haven't you ever seen a half naked man before?"  
  
Hermione blushed harder and ducked her head, but Draco's hand caught her chin and pulled her face up to look at him. He studied her face for a moment and his lips quirked as she tried to avoid making eye contact. "I've seen boys without their shirts on, thank you very much. I've been best friends with two of them for seven years now."  
  
"I didn't say anything about boys, darling. I asked about MEN. Surely some man has noticed how nicely you've grown up, how lovely you've become." His thumb stroked over her chin softly and his other hand dropped to her waist and skimmed lightly down over her hip. "All soft and round in all the right places." He stepped into her and his chest brushed the front of her shirt. "So warm." His face came down and he nuzzled the hair by her temple gently. "So sweet smelling."  
  
Hermione fought the urge to whimper. Her mind was telling her to move, to leave before she did something she would regret, but her body wasn't listening. She was unbearably aware of the heat of his skin burning her through her clothes, the feel of the hard contours of his body against her, the tangy scent of him surrounding her. She swayed and reached out instinctively to brace herself against him, her open palms flattening against the muscles of his chest. She shivered as his lips grazed her temple, and her eyes closed as they drifted down the side of her face in gentle, open mouthed kisses. "My lovely, darling Granger." The hand on her hip moved to her back and pulled her closer while the other tangled itself in the mass of curls at the back of her head, pulling it back to give him better access to the soft skin of her throat as he kissed and nibbled his way down to her collarbone. As he licked and sucked at her delicate skin, her legs began to tremble and she leaned into him even more.  
  
Her eyes flew open as she felt his arousal press against her stomach and he chuckled against her neck, the vibration sending shivers up and down her spine. "Feel what you do to me, my darling Granger." His hips rocked against hers and she found herself suddenly clutching his shoulders, trying to remain upright as her body began to melt from the inside out. Draco lifted his head and his hand tugged on her hair, angling her head back so he could see into her eyes. "I want you, Granger. In my house, in my bed, in my life." His eyes were dark with desire and determination. "You're going to be mine, Granger. All mine." He leaned down and captured her mouth with his, his kiss leaving no doubt as to his intentions. His mouth possessed hers, moving over her with purpose. His tongue teased her lips until she moaned and opened her mouth, allowing it entrance; it swept inside, caressing her teeth, her tongue, the roof of her mouth. He finally released her mouth as her head began to spin and she took deep gulping breaths, trying to regain her equilibrium. He stepped away, releasing his hold on her slowly, allowing her to regain her balance before letting go completely.  
  
"Good night, Granger." His voice was low and rough, his eyes hungry. "Sleep well. We'll talk again soon." He leaned in and brushed a last feather soft kiss against her lips before heading off to his room without a backward glance. Hermione collapsed, leaning against the back of the couch for support and watched him go, her hand idly brushing back and forth over her still sensitized lips.  
  
Oh, Merlin help her. Things had just gotten even more complicated.  
  
A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who have taken the time to review. May the updates be your reward! Next up, Severus has a little chat with Dumbledore... 


	5. Chapter 5, Part 1

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.  
  
A/N: This is really just the first part of Chapter 5, but it seemed an excellent place to end things as I begin working on the next key scene. Hope you enjoy!  
  
A good marriage is one which allows for change and  
growth in the individuals and in the way they express their love.  
- Pearl S. Buck  
  
Chapter 5, Part 1  
  
Severus Snape was not a patient man at the best of times, and tonight certainly didn't qualify as the best of times. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, not after another interminable staff meeting.  
  
His eyes narrowed as he considered the headmaster, settled in his high back chair at the head of the table, sucking on a sweet and smiling benignly at some drivel that Sprout was mouthing. He was almost sure Dumbledore was dragging this meeting out just to annoy him, and he was succeeding admirably.  
  
Judging by the little melodrama acted out by the Gryffindor players at dinner - you certainly could count on that group to provide entertainment at meals - something serious was going on with one of his Slytherins. As Draco Malfoy's Head of House, he should have been informed immediately of anything that would affect the boy, and he was not pleased that he had had to find out something was going on via That Silly Girl's histrionic pronouncement.  
  
Part of him knew he was being unfair to Her, but he consoled himself with the fact that it wasn't the first time and refused to dwell on it. After all, his primary concern was Draco, not Her.  
  
Even if She had made a splendid exit from the Great Hall tonight.  
  
Replaying it in his mind for the tenth time, he really doubted if he could have done better himself.  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
An hour later (just as he was completing his mental List Of Perfect Ways to Kill the Rest of the Staff - Number 18: a truly ingenious potion of hellebore and Scythin venom that would make the soil in the greenhouse poisonous to humans (i.e., Pomona Sprout) with prolonged exposure without endangering the plant life), the headmaster finally called the meeting to an end. As usual, the staff all scattered into small groups around the room for tea and conversation (a behaviour which he found totally de trop; after all, they had just spent the last 2 hours talking to each other). Rather than making a beeline for the door and freedom, however, as was his wont, Severus found himself trailing the headmaster, trying to get a word in edgewise as he made his rounds.  
  
It was Minerva who finally caught him. "Albus, I would like to speak with you about what happened in the Hall at dinner this evening. I have never known Miss Granger to lie-" she shot Snape a deathly glare at his snort of disbelief " - unlike the members of certain other houses, who are known for their frequent lack of honesty." She cast a meaningful glance at him, but he ignored it. He really didn't expect her to understand the fine distinction between lying and the judicious use of omission and/or creativity. "Is what she said true?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed and popped another lemon drop into his mouth. "I meant to speak to both you and Severus about these unhappy events this evening. Perhaps you two could both join me in my office for a cup of tea?" Minerva nodded primly and the headmaster headed towards the door, the two professors following in his wake. 


	6. Chapter 5, Part 2

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.  
  
"Marriage, if one will face the truth, is an evil, but a necessary evil."  
- Menander  
  
Chapter 5, Part 2  
  
The occasional tapping of an index finger against the arm of the chair was the only outward sign of Severus Snape's impatience, and even that he considered an indulgence. A year ago, such a lapse in his iron control could have gotten him killed, but, as everyone kept telling him over and over, things were different now. (He always acknowledged the truth of this statement, then consistently ignored the one that inevitably followed, wherein he was advised to "loosen up.")  
  
He allowed himself a small sigh as he refused a cup of tea, a lemon drop and biscuits, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
Finally settled into her chair, the table next to her piled high with tea and sweets, Minerva McGonogall broached the subject that had brought them all to the headmaster's office. "Now Albus, I want you to tell me what on earth is going on between Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy!"  
  
Dumbledore folded his hands across his elaborate robes and sat back in his armchair, regarding the professors across the desk from him for a moment before speaking. "Much of what I am going to tell you is common knowledge, but some confidences may be related as well. I am relying on both of you to not discuss this matter with others." Receiving the expected nods of acquiescence, he proceeded. "You are both familiar, no doubt, with the Ministry's recent passage of the law dictating the marriage of muggle born and pure blood witches and wizards." He smiled slightly at Snape's scowl and snort of disgust. "I appreciate your feelings, Severus, given the fact that your name appears on the marriage eligibility list. You can therefore understand, I hope, how Miss Granger felt when she received a letter from the Ministry this afternoon informing her that her name had been added to the list yesterday."  
  
A cry of disbelief from McGonogall interrupted the headmaster's narrative, and she put her teacup down with a shaky hand. "But how can this be!?! Miss Granger won't be eighteen until next September!"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that, as result of Miss Granger's use of the time turner in her third year, the Ministry's records show her age to be eighteen as of yesterday. As if this news wasn't distressing enough, she also received her first offer of marriage today as well."  
  
McGonogall clasped her hands in her lap and sat forward in her chair, her face showing her distress. "The poor child! This must have been such a shock for her! How could she have received an offer so quickly, though?"  
  
"Lucius Malfoy." The name dripped from Severus' lips like venom.  
  
The headmaster sighed. "Precisely. I am afraid Mr. Malfoy, despite the mistrust engendered by his sudden convenient change in loyalties last year, has managed to retain some friends at the Ministry. He has proffered an offer for Miss Granger's hand on behalf of his son, the first, unless I am mistaken, of many such offers she will receive in the coming days."  
  
Severus suppressed the sudden urge to smash something. The thought of Her being wasted on the Malfoy boy was repugnant. Granted, Draco was a damn sight better than his father - his arrogant selfishness was tempered with intelligence and he lacked his father's cruelty and penchant for violence - but he was still a Malfoy. The quintessential Slytherin, Snape understood exactly what Lucius was hoping to gain by marrying the boy to a muggle born witch, but still, the choice of this particular girl surprised him.  
  
McGonogall huffed in anoyance. "After everything he's done to that child over the years, to expect that she would agree to marry his son - who, I might add, has made it a point to be less than kind to the poor girl at every opportunity. What can he have been thinking!?!"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "I believe young Draco is at least partially responsible for his father's choice of bride. He is not, I believe, immune to Miss Granger's considerable charms."  
  
Severus raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Somehow he doubted Draco had the discernment to appreciate the subtle attributes that She possessed. Though lovely, She did not possess the overblown beauty characteristic of the girls Draco was wont to pursue. Her brilliance overshadowed young Malfoy's mere intelligence, Her sharp tongue had cut him to the quick on more than one occasion, She was more at home in a library than a ballroom and though She could provide scintillating discourse on literature, magical history and theory, and potions, She knew virtually nothing about politics, wizard genealogy, fashion, or Quidditch. If Draco was, indeed, interested in marrying Her, he had to have a hidden agenda of some kind. Severus decided a talk with the boy was in order.  
  
"Albus, you must do something! You cannot allow this to happen!" McGonogall looked expectantly at the headmaster.  
  
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I am afraid, Minerva, that this is out of my hands. The Ministry is adamant about not allowing any exceptions to the law. Though they use the law's newness as reasoning, I fear they know it is simply a matter of time before it is repealed and they wish to insure that as many marriages - and therefore children - come from it as possible. We can only hope that Miss Granger receives an offer that meets with her approval, and decides to accept it and stay in the wizarding world and continue her education with us."  
  
Severus went cold at the implication. It was entirely possible, given the Gryffindor tendency towards grand gestures and melodrama, that She would refuse all marriage offers, turn in her wand, and leave Hogwarts and the wizarding world entirely, not to return until the absurd law had been done away with.  
  
By which time the school year would be over and done with, and he would quite likely never see Her again.  
  
Severus attributed the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that accompanied this thought to the possible loss of his potions assistant. It had taken him twenty years of teaching to find an assistant he could actually work with, one who actually had some modicum of understanding of the complexity and beauty of potions making as well as the ability to translate that understanding into something that could be contained in a vial.  
  
Granted, That Silly Girl asked far too many questions, was far too cheerful, and smiled too much, but at least they were intelligent questions, She did not try and 'cheer him up' and Her smile really was lovely to look at.  
  
"Severus, you have been awfully quiet." Dumbledore regarded Severus over the tops of his glasses, his eyes twinkling gently in the low light. "What do you have to say on this matter?"  
  
Snape shrugged and folded his hands, looking at the headmaster impassively. "Other than expressing my concern over the possible loss of a passable potions assistant, I don't see that there is much for me to say in the matter. I will, of course, talk to Mr. Malfoy and insure that this situation does not negatively affect his schoolwork in any way."  
  
McGonogall turned on him. "Severus! How can you be so cold? This must be difficult for both of the children, especially Miss Granger! She wasn't brought up in a world where arranged marriages are still common, and I'm sure she certainly never thought she'd be in such a position. The poor child must be beside herself with worry and upset!" She made up her mind to have a nice long talk with Hermione tomorrow and see how she was coping. Though Minerva tried very hard not to play favourites, it was no secret that she was fond of the girl, and she wanted to make sure she knew she had someone to turn to.  
  
Snape waved a hand at her, dismissing her concern. "Really, Minerva. The 'children,' as you put it, are actually adults now. And may I remind you that Miss Granger was one of those who faced the dark lord in the final battle. I think she can handle a few marriage proposals."  
  
Minerva's eyes narrowed. "And may I remind you, Severus, that what you know about women, young and old, could be written on the head of a pin!"  
  
Dumbledore coughed, barely repressing a chuckle, then stood, effectively ending the meeting. "I don't think there is anything more to be gained from this discussion. I will keep you both informed of any new developments, and I know that I can count on you to take care of the students entrusted to your care during this difficult situation."  
  
Severus merely nodded and swept from the room. Stalking down the corridor towards the dungeons, he considered his course of action. A talk with young Draco was definitely in order, and perhaps one with Lucius as well, much as he abhorred the thought. Tomorrow was Tuesday, and he hoped She would report, as usual, in the evening to assist him in the potions lab.  
  
It had been awhile since he had to interrogate anyone, but he was sure he hadn't lost his touch. 


	7. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.  
  
A/N: Yes, yes, I know this is basically filler, but it is necessary stage setting for the next important conversations between all the important parties. Be patient!  
  
"Marriage is a lottery, but you can't tear up your ticket if you lose."  
- F. M. Knowles  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Hermione stifled a shriek at the sight of herself in the mirror. The sleepless night had not been kind to her. Her hair was back to its former bushy glory and she looked a lot like the ghosts who roamed the castle halls, the pallor of her complexion emphasizing the purple smudges under her eyes. "Oh, my, you can't go out looking like that, dearie!" the mirror clucked maternally. "Aren't you feeling well? Perhaps you should go back to bed and try again later."  
  
Hermione bit back the urge to tell the mirror to sod off and began her reclamation project. A half hour later, her hair was a bit smoother and clipped up neatly, her skin, though pale, didn't look quite so translucent and her immaculate uniform drew attention away from her tired eyes. Deciding that it would have to do - the hands on her clock had been sitting at "you're really, REALLY late" for awhile now - she ran out of the bathroom, shoved her feet into her shoes and grabbed her bookbag from the chair in her room. She rifled through her desk for new ink and parchment and stuffed them into the bag as she stumbled through the common room and was nearly out the door before she remembered she wasn't wearing her robe. Backtracking, she hastily grabbed it off the back of the couch, exited into the corridor and began to run. Juggling her book bag, she managed to actually get her arms through the correct sleeves of the robe, nearly tripping over the hem a few times. Skidding to a halt in front of the doors to the Great Hall, she paused to take a deep breath and compose herself before entering.  
  
One good thing about being so rushed this morning: she hadn't had time to think about how people were going to react after her big announcement last night. Her stomach let out a low growl, reminding her that she hadn't eaten dinner the night before, and she decided she didn't care what people said, as long as she had big plate of food in front of her while they said it.  
  
Unconsciously squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she opened the doors and crossed the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------  
  
Severus' mug paused briefly on its trip back to the table as he caught sight of the small figure entering the Hall. He watched as She wended her way gracefully through the tables and sat down in Her usual place between Potter and the youngest Weasley boy. Even at this distance, he noted Her pallid complexion, and wondered if She had gotten any sleep at all last night.  
  
Not that he really cared, he assured himself, except that Her first class of the day was Advanced Potions, and he didn't want Her exhaustion to result in an accident. Quickly dismissing the thought that even half asleep She was capable of flawlessly brewing any potion in the curriculum, he forced his gaze away from Her and back to the Slytherin table.  
  
Only to find Draco Malfoy ignoring his breakfast and watching Her. Severus ignored the sudden flash of anger that tore through him and carefully lifted his mug, drank the last of his tea, and, placing it back to the side of his still full plate, rose to make his way from the dais down to the Slytherin table.  
  
It was time to schedule a talk with the Malfoy boy.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------  
  
"Good morning, Ron. Harry." Hermione slid into her usual place at the Gryffindor table and greeted the boy to either side of her. She felt Harry watching her as she piled her plate high with food and tucked in.  
  
"Morning, 'Mione. How are you feeling?" Harry asked.  
  
She smiled slightly. "Do I look that bad?"  
  
"You look knackered. Bad dreams or no sleep?" Harry's voice was matter-of- fact, and Hermione's heart ached a little, knowing his question was born of experience.  
  
"Couldn't sleep. I just can't believe this is all happening," Hermione sighed. "Unfortunately, it IS happening and I have to deal with it." She applied herself to clearing her plate.  
  
"Um...Hermione?" She watched as Ron nervously pushed the scrambled eggs around on his plate before taking a deep breath. "About last night...I'm sorry. I was just so shocked and, I mean, well, who would have thought..."  
  
Hermione sighed again. "I know. Let's just forget it, shall we?" She picked up her fork and began to eat.  
  
"Hermione?" Harry put his hand on her back and rubbed gently. "Ron, Gin and I talked last night, and we just want you to know that we're here to help. There has to be something we can do, some way to get you out of this, and we're going to help you find it."  
  
Hermione blinked back tears. " Thanks, Harry. I don't know what I would do without you guys." A tear leaked out and she went to wipe it away with the sleeve of her robe, only to find herself face to face with a handkerchief. Without thinking, she grabbed the square of linen and wiped away her tears.  
  
"Really, Granger. I don't mind you borrowing my clothes, but do try and care of them." Hermione's head shot up and she found herself staring into Malfoy's amused grey eyes. She watched, confused, as his eyes dropped to her chest. "I must say, it looks surprisingly good on you. Who would have guessed?"  
  
Following his gaze, she gasped in surprise at the sight of the Slytherin crest on her robe. She closed her eyes and groaned, suppressing her desire to bang her head on the table. She'd been in such a hurry, she'd grabbed the wrong robe on her way out this morning, which meant...opening her eyes, she eyed the Slytherin crest on Malfoy's robe suspiciously. "If I'm wearing your robe, where's mine?"  
  
"Where you left it, I imagine. You don't actually think I wear the same robe two days in a row, do you? You know, if you don't hurry, Granger, you're going to be late for Potions, and I don't think even that robe will save you from my Head of House. Oh, and you can keep the handkerchief. It's got our monogram on it." Malfoy smiled at her and tucked a stray curl behind her ear before heading off towards the waiting Crabbe and Goyle, ignoring the speculative stares and the buzzing of gossip that followed him.  
  
Seven...eight...nine... Draco's mental count stopped as he heard the Weasel explode behind him. "Hermione! What the hell are you doing wearing Malfoy's clothes?"  
  
A/N: As most of you know, this is destined to be a SS/HG story. I have, however, had a number of requests (surprisingly enough, even from fans of our beloved Potions Master) for an alternate version of this story where Draco gets the girl, as it were. If you would be interested in the DM/HG version as well, let me know, and I will see what I can do. (I am undecided about writing them concurrently or one after another.) 


	8. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.

**"_Marriage is like a pair of shears. Oft times working in opposite directions,_**

**_but punishing anyone that comes between them."      -Sydney Smith_**

****

****

****

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Chapter 7

Hermione could feel the throbbing beginning behind her eyes, and wondered how long she had before the actual headache arrived. After almost seven years of trying to explain things to Ron, she knew the symptoms. She also knew trying to make him understand some things was useless, but she'd been sorted into Gryffindor for a reason and she forged ahead anyway, making one last brave attempt.

"Look, Ron, I told you, I grabbed the wrong robe off the couch this morning. I don't have time to go get mine right now, I am not going to transfigure someone else's property without permission – even assuming I could, since Malfoy's belongings probably have anti-spell charms on them anyway – and somehow, I find it hard to believe wearing a snake on my chest for a few hours is going to completely ruin my life." Ron opened his mouth to protest – again - and she glared at him. "Enough already. It's just a robe, for Merlin's sake!"

"Hermione?" Hermione stopped and turned towards the small voice, quickly eliminating the glare when the second year girl gasped and began to back away quickly. 

 "I'm sorry, Mary, that wasn't meant for you. What can I do for you?" Relieved at the distraction, she turned to Harry and Ron and made a shooing motion towards the end of the corridor. "You two better hurry up and get to Potions. I'll be along in a minute." She shot Ron another deadly glare as he opened his mouth. Admitting defeat, he shrugged and headed off, Harry following quickly behind him.

Hermione smiled and Mary relaxed. "I don't want you to be late! I just wanted to let you know I passed that horrible transfiguration test, and well, thank you for all your help. I was so scared, I knew I couldn't pass on my own, and it was so nice of you to tutor me. I know how busy you are and all…" The blonde girl blushed and ducked her head. "I just wanted you to know how I did."

Hermione smile grew. Finally, something good news. "I'm glad you passed the test, Mary. You worked really hard and I'm proud of you. Remember, you come and tell me if you have problems again, alright?" 

Mary smiled back. "I promise."  She jumped at the sound of a chime coming from her watch.  "Oh, gosh! I'm going to be late!" She turned and started down the hall, yelling "Thanks again, Hermione! I couldn't have done it without you!" before breaking in to a run.

Hermione headed off down the corridor after her quickly. She didn't dare run – she was Head Girl, after all – but she walked as quickly as her dignity would allow. She was relieved when she caught sight of the classroom doors and realized she wasn't the last to arrive; Crabbe was approaching from the other direction. She smiled, wondering idly if the ever fastidious Malfoy had decided he couldn't get through a few hours without a handkerchief and sent one of his minions off to fetch one before class.

She stopped in front of the doors to the classroom behind Crabbe, ready to catch the heavy door and follow him in. Instead, he grabbed the handle, pulled the door open and stepped aside, gesturing politely for Hermione to proceed him inside.

She stood there for a moment, staring, looking like a victim of _Stupefy, _before she finally gathered her wits and walked through the door. "Um…thank you." She couldn't help looking back over her shoulder at him, puzzled by his odd behaviour.

"My pleasure, Lady," he replied graciously and smiled at her. She stumbled briefly. A minion of the Prince of Slytherin had held the door for a muggle born witch, then answered her politely and called her "Lady." Oh, AND he had smiled at her.

Hell had obviously frozen over and no one had informed her.  It was the only explanation.

Turning back to find her way to her seat, she caught sight of Malfoy. His smirk and curt nod of approval in Crabbe's direction suddenly made other possible reasons seem possible.

She sighed regretfully as she slid into her seat. The Hell explanation would have been so much easier to deal with.

Precisely on time as usual, Severus swept into class, glared at Crabbe, who was not yet in his seat, and stalked down the aisle to his desk. Turning, he ran a critical eye over what was theoretically the crème de la crème of Potions students at Hogwarts: the seventh year Advanced Potions Class.

It never ceased to amaze him that the simpletons had managed to make it this far. Honestly, most of them could barely tell a cauldron from a coal scuttle. Except for Her, of course, and perhaps the Malfoy boy. His eyes drifted towards Her and narrowed as he caught a glimpse of Her attire. Not trusting his usually unerring eyesight, he straightened and stepped closer, stopping in front of Her desk. His eyes hadn't deceived him. She actually _was_ wearing a Slytherin robe. He tamped down the warm feeling that threatened to spread through him at the sight of her in his House's raiment. How many times over the years had he wished She was one of his…

Suddenly uncomfortable, She looked up and Her eyes met his. He allowed one eyebrow to climb slowly before speaking. "Well, Miss Granger. I'm sure I speak for all of us in Slytherin House when I say I am gratified that you've come to your senses and finally realized there is a House where your drive to know-it-all and need to enlighten the general populace could be used to better purpose than constantly annoying your professors and fellow students. I must regretfully inform you, however, that your epiphany has come far too late. No matter what robe you choose to wear, I'm afraid you are doomed to graduate as a Gryffindor."

Her eyes flashed amber for a moment, but Her voice was calm when She spoke. "I'm afraid I was in a hurry and there was a mix up this morning, Professor. Believe me, I intend to return this robe to Malfoy and change back into my Gryffindor robe just as soon as possible. I'm sure we all agree he is much better suited to it than I."

Severus' eyes narrowed as he sorted through the implications of Her statement. Somehow, She and Malfoy had managed to get their clothes mixed up. His eyes shot over to the Slytherin side of the room and he barely stopped himself from reaching for his wand at the sight of the younger man's self satisfied smile. If he was going to hex the boy – and right now, there were five or six really painful hexes hovering on the tip of his tongue – it would be foolish to do it in class. He turned back to Her. "Twenty five points from Gryffindor for the Head Girl's failure to keep track of her clothing once it's been removed," he snarled, then, turning sharply with a billow of black robes, he proceeded to get back to the job at hand: trying to impart some small knowledge of potions to the dunderheads before they were let loose on the world.

For the rest of the class period, try as he might to keep his mind on the matter at hand, he found his attention drifting to Malfoy (who was watching Her), Weasley (who was watching Malfoy watch Her) or Granger (who was pointedly ignoring everyone, including him). 

Finally, after what seemed an interminable amount of time, the end of the period approached. "I want four feet of parchment tomorrow on the side effects of and antidotes for the potion we were studying today. And no, I'm not going to tell you the name of it or what it does; we've been going over the ingredients and the brewing of it for the past hour and a half. Those of you who have half a brain have no doubt have figured it out by now; the rest of you are hopeless cretins and I don't intend to waste my time telling you things you should already know." Severus smirked when he saw the look of desperation on Potter and Weasley's face; a quick glance at Her told him that She knew exactly what the potion was. He knew She would tell them eventually, but he hoped She would make them at least work a bit for the information first.

He stood at his desk and watched as Malfoy put away his supplies. As usual, every non-Gryffindor girl in class found an excuse to pass by his desk and make some no-doubt coquettish remark to the boy, which he responded to with automatic charm. Tired of watching the parade, Severus decided to speed things up. "Mr. Malfoy, I believe we have an appointment." Shrugging apologetically at the admirer currently hovering by his desk, Malfoy nodded a dismissal to Crabbe and Goyle, hoisted his book bag over his shoulder and made his way to the front of the class.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Severus stared at the boy for a few moments before turning and walking away. 

"My office. Now." 

A/N: The public (yes, that means you!) has spoken, and there will, by popular demand, be another version of this story written where Draco gets the girl. (Also by popular request, it will be done after this one is completed.) This is the chapter where there will begin to be major differences in the DM/HG version (which I have begun to think of as "A Marriage of Inconvenience 2.0"). Much thanks to all who have taken the time to review and email so far. YOU are the reason this story is being updated fairly quickly (though I have started a NC-17 Hermione fic ("Practical Knowledge," posted on adultfanfiction.net) for those moments when I want to write something that is simply mindless entertainment), and your input is the only reason I haven't lost interest and wandered off. Your comments, suggestions and insights keep this interesting, and add so much to the story. Thanks for making my words part of your day.


	9. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.

**_A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short_**

- **_Andre Maurois_**

****

Chapter 8

Draco followed the Professor to his office, his thoughts still occupied by a certain brunette Gryffindor currently on her way to Charms – or was it Transfiguration? No, Charms. She'd been demonstrating the correct wand technique for the delitescere charm as she headed out the door, and judging by the panicked look on the Weasel's face, the Slytherins weren't the only ones having a test today. He hoped tall, red and dense flunked miserably.

The blond gave Snape's office a cursory glance while mentally calculating the time it would take him to get to the corridor outside Granger's classroom after Charms so he could 'accidentally' run into her, deciding he had no more than an hour to waste here if he wanted to get everything done this morning and still be in place when her class let out. He forced himself to stand impassively in front of the Professor's desk, carefully hiding his impatience, and waited for his Head of House to get to the point already.   

*********

Severus seated himself carefully, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and folding his hands neatly in front of himself, thumbs resting gently against each other. He let the Malfoy boy stand for a long moment, watching with hooded eyes for any sign of anxiety or impatience. Finding none, he finally nodded to the seat on the other side of the desk. "Sit, Mr. Malfoy."  He watched as the boy sat and shifted a few times before finally settling into his usual pose of studied nonchalance. Severus always enjoyed watching students try and find a comfortable spot in those chairs. He had personally designed them to be as discommodious as possible, and had found it well worth all the work that had been involved.

In his office, he always held the advantage.

Severus waited patiently for the younger man to break the silence, thereby putting him at a further disadvantage. Draco sat and waited, the minutes dragging by. Finally, he sighed, admitting defeat. "What did you want to see me about, Professor?"

Severus resisted the urge to smirk, knowing it was unnecessary. The point was his. He did so enjoy dealing with other Slytherins; they knew the unspoken rules and how to play the game.

"I had an interesting conversation with the Headmaster this morning, Mr. Malfoy. It appears a member of my House has tendered an offer of marriage, in accordance with the new Marriage Law, to another Hogwarts student - a muggle born Gryffindor, of all people. Would you care to explain this?"

Draco studied his Head of House for a moment, considering his answer. If the Headmaster had spoken to Snape about his proposal, there was a good chance that he knew about this conversation, and anything Draco said to the Professor would make its way back to Dumbledore and then to Hermione. That could work to his advantage. On the other hand, the Professor couldn't possibly be happy about the most prominent member of his House marrying a girl who had been the bane of his existence in the classroom and best friend to Harry Potter; everyone knew Snape loathed Potter. The more Snape knew about the situation, the better chance he had to do something to keep the marriage from happening. After all, knowledge is power.  

Draco decided to play it safe for now. "With all due respect, sir, not really. After all, this is a very private manner between Hermione and me." He congratulated himself on remembering to call Granger by her first name, and hoped it sounded natural. After all, she wouldn't be 'Granger' much longer. 'Hermione Malfoy'. He decided he rather liked the sound of that.

Severus glowered pointedly. "Private matter or not, Malfoy, we will discuss it. I want to know what this is all about, and I want to know **_now_**."

Draco smirked, enjoying the professor's annoyance. "I'm sorry, sir. I really don't think that would be appropriate." His smirk faded as the Professor slowly unfolded his hands and placed them face down on the desk and stood, raising himself to his full height before leaning across the desk to bring his eyes level with the younger man's. 

Severus was careful not to allow his rage to show, but it simmered just below the surface. How dare the little upstart refuse him in such a manner! The smirking little cretin had something in mind for Her, and as Merlin was his witness, he would find out what it was. When he spoke, it was slowly, his voice low, ice infusing each and every word. "You forget who you are dealing with, Malfoy. I have questions I want answers to, and I will have them, one way or another. Do I make myself clear?" 

Draco pulled back in his chair instinctively, eyes wide. Suddenly he was very aware of the fact that the man in front of his was a former Death Eater, a Master of Dark Magic, just like his father. Unlike Lucius, however, the professor didn't have a vested interest in protecting his son and only heir. Short of permanent physical damage, Snape could do just about anything to him to find out what he wanted to know; a simple **_Obliviate_** afterwards and no one would be the wiser. As the thought occurred to him, Draco automatically reached for his wand.

Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough.

**"_Expelliarmus!"_ **Severus examined the unfamiliar wand with interest before tucking it into his sleeve. "Very nice. Nothing like your father's, surprisingly enough. I'll just hold on to this for the moment; we don't want any nasty accidents to happen, now, do we? Let's see…where were we?" He circled the desk slowly, his eyes never leaving Draco's, finally coming to a stop in front of him. Folding his arms across his chest, the older man leaned against the desk, looming over his student. "Ah, yes. I was going to ask some questions, and you were going to answer them for me….truthfully."

Draco stiffened, then nodded slightly, conceding defeat. "Very well, Professor, if it means that much to you." He watched Snape's eyes narrow and knew he had somehow scored a point, even if he didn't know exactly how.  

"First, why have you tendered an offer of marriage to Miss Granger?" 

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Because I want to marry her, of course!"

Severus allowed his own wand to drop out of his sleeve and into his hand. He watched Malfoy's eyes widen as he held it casually, testing the weight and balance of the familiar wood in his palm. "Perhaps you could be a little more forthcoming, Mr. Malfoy."

"Fine. Sir." Draco wrenched his eyes from Snape's wand. "When the new law was enacted, Lucius decided that marrying me off to a mud – muggle born would be the best way to show the Ministry that he really was serious about his change of heart. Things have been…**_difficult_** for the family since he-who - **_Voldemorte_** was defeated. Some of our more questionable assets have been frozen, Lucius has been asked to leave boards and committees left and right, invitations have fallen off considerably and well, Mother hasn't been feeling very friendly towards him lately as a result. When I saw G – Hermione's name on the list, I decided not to fight him on it, as long as he agreed to let me marry **_her_**, and not some clueless muggle born witch. A win-win situation."

Severus eyed the blond skeptically. "You expect me to believe that Lucius willingly agreed to a marriage between his only son and heir and the young woman who was key to the defeat of the Dark Lord?"

Draco smiled without amusement. "Of course he agreed…once I pointed out the advantages. Hermione is a war hero. The Ministry is sure to allow us access to our accounts again if he puts them in her and my name, people will do just about anything to have us at their parties once we are married just so they can pretend they know the famous Hermione Malfoy –" he missed  Snape's almost invisible shudder at the mention of the name "- and let's face it, between the two of us, our children are guaranteed to be powerful little witches and wizards. With any luck, there should be a whole bunch of them for Lucuis to brag about. He might not like the idea of us marrying, but it's in his, and the family's, best interest, and he knows it."

Severus recognized the victorious look on young Malfoy's face. There was more to it than that. "And what do **_you_** get out of all this?"

Draco tried to look innocent and failed miserably. "Me? I get a wife I can stand being around and actually want to bed, access to a lot of money, and powerful children." He watched the professor test the heft of his wand pointedly. "Oh, fine. I also get out of Lucius' shadow. After I marry Hermione, we'll be **_the_** Malfoys. People will talk about and remember what **_we_** do, what **_we_** say. Lucius will never be able to control me again."

Severus had to admire the younger man's reasoning; choosing Her as a bride really was a brilliant move. He had also noticed the fact that not once had young Malfoy referred to Lucius as "my father"; obviously, there was more than a little resentment there. Not that he could blame the boy; Lucius was an even bigger bastard than his own father was. Logical as the choice was, however, it should not have come so quickly. "A wife you can stand being around? Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, but I find it difficult to believe that for the last seven years you have simply been feigning resentment and loathing for Miss Granger and her muggle-born brethren. I have heard reports of some of the things you have said to her over the years, not to mention remarks you made in the privacy of the Slytherin common room. Let me guess, in your second year, during the attacks on the muggle born students, when you said you hoped Miss Granger was the first fatality, it was simply because if you couldn't have her, you didn't want anyone else to, either?" Severus raised an eyebrow in patented disbelief; the notion sounded even more absurd when spoken aloud.

Draco forced himself not to look away from the older man's gaze. "Come now, Professor, surely you remember what it's like to make a mistake in your youth, to parrot the prejudices of your elders and regret  it later. Some of us, luckily, learn to think for ourselves before it's too late." Draco smiled at the visible tightening of the professor's jaw. Another point to him. "Hermione's being a Gryffindor is of more concern to me now than her being muggle born. My little lioness is going to going to have to learn to survive in the snake den. But then, we both know how adaptable she can be…how well she rises to a challenge. I'm sure she'll manage just fine."

The simmering rage Severus had felt since the discussion began was close to boiling out of control, so he stood and took a turn around the room, his robes billowing comfortingly around him. How dare the arrogant little prick speak of Her in such a fashion! "Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy, "your little lioness"  - " The words dripped with sarcasm; the simile, though in many ways apt, was distasteful. She was far too antisocial and energetic to be a lion, and She certainly deserved much better than a lioness' lot in life, providing some preening male with sustenance and children in exchange for protection. " – will choose not to brave the snake's den. After all, Miss Granger, as you have pointed out, is a witch of considerable power, intelligence and fame. She has a bright future to look forward to in the wizarding world; she may be unwilling to give that future up to become the latest in the long line of decorative, inconsequential Malfoy wives." The last bitten off word was punctuated by the snap of his robe as he turned sharply to face the blond. Intellectually, Severus knew it wasn't the boy's fault Narcissa had become what she had, but some small part of him had always wondered if she would have left Lucius if it weren't for her son. Her love for the boy had kept her tied to the bastard until the last bit of the glorious, vibrant, intelligent, beautiful young woman he remembered had faded from sight, and all that was left was a fragile, lovely, empty shell of a woman who went through the motions.

He had to believe that She was far too intelligent to allow herself to fall victim to such a fate. 

Draco relaxed in his chair and smiled. "Not to worry, Professor. Hermione will marry me. She just has to be given the right…incentive." 

Severus snorted rudely. "And just what makes you so sure you know the proper incentive for someone like Miss Granger?"

Draco's smile grew more self satisfied. "She's a woman, Professor, and I'm a Malfoy. We know exactly what women want, and we are very, **_very_** good at giving it to them."

Severus closed his eyes; sitting there, the boy looked too much like Lucius right now, and if he didn't get the little prick out of his office in the next two minutes he was going to do something he would regret later. "You are insufferable, Mr. Malfoy, and I have had quite enough of you for one morning. Go. Now." He tossed the boy's wand in his general direction, slightly disappointed when he didn't hear it clatter to the ground. It was too much to hope for, he supposed; after all, the boy **_was_** a seeker. 

Severus turned and headed back to his desk, listening impatiently to the sounds of the younger man gathering his things and heading for the door. She was not just any woman, he reassured himself. Surely She was far too intelligent to be susceptible to the questionable charms of a Malfoy. 

Realizing he hadn't heard the door shut, Severus looked up to find Malfoy standing in the open doorway watching him. "What!?!" he demanded crossly.

"Well, Professor…you didn't wish me luck." Malfoy tried to look innocent and failed miserably. 

Severus shook his head in disgust; a Malfoy couldn't look innocent even when they hadn't done anything wrong. Why did they even bother? "Out. **_Now._**"

At the sound of the shutting door, he threw himself into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He really needed to brew some more headache potion. He had a feeling he was going to need it soon. 

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to post. Illness, along with the difficulty of getting the two Slytherins of the scene to cooperate (each of them demanded to come out on top in the battle of wills and do you have any idea how tiring it is to write TWO of them!?!) made this an impossible chapter to get out quickly. The next update should be much faster in coming, I promise. (Now, I am off to write some nice, restful smut for a change of pace! It's so much easier!)


	10. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs. 

**_"When people get married because they think it's a long-time love affair,_**

**_they'll be divorced very soon, because all love affairs end in disappointment._**

**_But marriage is a recognition of a spiritual identity."   
                                                                     - Joseph Campbell_**

****

Chapter 9

Hermione took a deep calming breath before heading quickly down the stairs towards the dungeons. Ten to seven; she should be there on time, as usual. She winced at the painful throb in the back of her head. Breaking up the fight between Malfoy and Ron after Charms had brought the threatened headache on full force, and it seemed everywhere she went after that, Malfoy was there. She'd had to resort to threatening to hex Ron herself to keep him from doing something daft. The two hours in the library researching after classes had proven to be wasted effort as well; if there were loopholes in the law, she certainly hadn't found them, and she'd missed dinner for nothing.

As a result, she was looking forward to her time in the potions lab even more than usual. She smiled as she thought about how Harry and Ron would react if they knew how much she enjoyed her job as Professor Snape's assistant, how at home she felt in the midst of all the herbs and jars and beakers and cauldrons. They had been appalled when she had told them that she had accepted the position but it didn't last long; when she had returned from her first few sessions, tired and happy rather than angry and in tears they had decided to simply ignore the whole matter, chalking it up as one of her oddities. She'd never bothered to inform them of exactly how calming she found the six hours a week she spent in the Professor's company. Yes, he was curt and his acerbic wit could be cutting, but the casual cruelty that occasionally manifested itself in the classroom was completely absent in a one-on-one situation, and Hermione found herself amused more than appalled at his comments. His knowledge, not only of potions, but of herbology, charms, history, science and yes, even literature and music, was extensive and made available to her during their sessions; not only did he answer her endless questions, regardless of the subject matter, he actually encouraged them. Best of all, unlike many of the professors, who were offended when Hermione questioned their reasoning and methods, Professor Snape enjoyed it when she challenged him, and more than one evening of work had fallen far short of its goal due to an extended debate.

She reached the dungeon and checked her watch. Idly counting off the seconds in her head, she knocked on the door at exactly seven o'clock. Pushing open the heavy door upon receiving the order to "Enter!" she stepped inside and closed it behind her, truly happy for the first time in two days.

Hermione stirred mechanically while she watched the professor cut the scorpion tail into precise, symmetrical pieces. She loved watching him work. It was akin to watching a particularly talented dancer or swordsman or musician, she supposed, the way his body, after years of training and constant practice, performed the most complex of tasks with ease and grace. She was mesmerized by the swift, sure motions of his long, tapered fingers, chopping and dicing, moving from one ingredient to the next without pause.

"Is your headache gone, Miss Granger?" He didn't look up or cease work, and it took a moment for Hermione to realize he had spoken to her.

"Yes, sir. Thank you. The potion took effect awhile ago. I'm fine now." She was surprised at his concern, almost as surprised as she had been when he had realized she was in pain after only five minutes in her company and demanded an explanation. She was either not good at hiding her feelings, even after seven years practice, or he was far more perceptive than she gave him credit for. 

Of course, if he were that perceptive, he wouldn't keep trying to get her to talk about her current situation. She had come here seeking solace, and the blasted man kept reminding her, with his sly comments and questions, that he knew of the nightmare her life had become. It was beginning to get on her nerves. The lab was supposed to be her refuge, if only for a few hours, and the Professor was ruining it for her. If Dumbledore had felt it necessary to confide in the professor, fine, but that didn't mean she had to.

At the sound of the bell, Hermione dutifully turned off the flame below the cauldron, removed the sterling spoon and moved to the long row of vials on the table behind her to prepare for the decanting of the potion. The mindless work soothed her: check a vial for cracks, wipe it out carefully with the prepared rag, then place it in the rack next to the proper sized stopper. Over and over again, her arms moved of their own volition until the rhythm was broken by his voice.

"Make sure you take some headache relief potion back with you when you leave this evening. This little quandry you seem to have gotten yourself into will not excuse poor performance in class. I would also advise you to eat something as soon as possible." The professor did not look up at the sound of a vial being banged down on the hard metal table top. 

"This little quandry **_I_** seem to have gotten myself into?" Anyone else would have recognized the danger in Her tone of voice, but Severus was too distracted, still dwelling on the look on the Malfoy boy's face as he watched Her during Potions that morning. He'd been imagining the little prick's face with each and every stroke of the knife and he was sorry he'd run out of ingredients that required cutting. He wondered idly if he should start on the caterpillars for next week's lessons, but decided they wouldn't be fresh enough if he cut them now, more's the pity.

"Excuse me, Professor. I don't know what Professor Dumbledore or Malfoy have told you, but obviously you have no idea what is going on here." Hermione began to pace around the lab, arms crossed in front of her. Her control was gone, for the first time in two days, and once she started talking, she didn't seem to be able to stop. Well, too bad; it was his own fault for bringing it all up.

 "My life has turned in to a nightmare…a nightmare, I might add, which is completely the fault of those dunderheads at the Ministry of Magic! Two days ago, my only really concern was getting enough revision in before NEWTS; now I have to either marry someone I don't love or leave a world I **_do_** love. I feel shocked and angry and betrayed." She raised a hand to cut off his comment when he opened his mouth to speak. "Not by Professor Dumbledore, or anyone here, but by the Ministry and the wizarding world itself. After everything I did, everything I gave to keep this world safe, all the nightmares I still have…" She closed her eyes, suddenly swamped by memories of the final battle: the screams and cries of the dead and dying, that horrible moment of realization that she was responsible for some of those cries, the endless, torturous pain of the cruciatus curse that had made her beg for death, watching as Harry stood before Voldemorte, alone and vulnerable with only the love of her and Ron to shield him. She shook her head to clear her mind and forced herself to go on. "After all that, it repays me by treating me like some sort of mindless baby machine." She opened her eyes, fighting back the tears, determined not to cry, and looked at him. "So I either marry Malfoy, of all people, or worse yet, some stranger, or I leave. I break my wand, and walk away, go back to the muggle world and leave behind magic – my magic, a part of me. I leave my friends, and Hogwarts, and the chance at a future doing something I truly love, that I'm good at. And believe me, I'm angry enough to have considered it. It won't be long, my friends say. Six months, a year at most. **_This time._** They don't seem to understand. If I walk away, it won't be easy to come back…and there's no guarantee that this won't be the last time. I feel trapped, Professor, and I don't know what to do, and **_I hate that_**!" She couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and she turned her back to him, trying to cry quietly.

Severus watched her bowed back, his keen ears picking up the occasional strangled sob. She was crying, She had poured out Her heart to him and now She was crying, and he didn't know what to do. His mind scrambled to identify an appropriate action, but he was distracted by a mysterious aching pain in his chest, so he resorted to doing something he never thought he would: he did what he thought Albus would. Squaring his shoulders, he crossed to the girl's shaking form, reached out a tentative hand and gave her shoulder a few ineffectual pats. "There, there, Miss Granger." He started to mouth some ridiculous platitude but his innate sense of honesty wouldn't allow it. "Yes, things look absolutely horrid for you right now, but don't you dare give up, or give in to despair. You're a Gryffindor, you Silly Little Girl! Show the courage your house is famous for!" His hand found her shoulder again, seemingly of its own volition, and squeezed it gently. "You aren't alone in this, Miss Granger. You have your friends to help you, and the Weasleys, the whole pack of them, and the Headmaster and your professors." 

Hermione turned her tear stained face to look at him searchingly. "My professors? All of them?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Has your emotional state impaired your thought process? 'Your professors' is an inclusive term, Miss Granger, from which one may imply 'all of them.' " 

She smiled at his response, an open, joyous smile, and the aching pain in his heart twisted into a pleasurable pain he couldn't quite identify. "Thank you, Professor." He handed Her a handkerchief – plain white linen with a tasteful "S" monogrammed in the corner.  She wiped the tears from Her face before returning it to his outstretched hand, then turned back to the work table and picked up the vial She had set down not so long ago. 

Severus looked at the handkerchief for a moment before folding it carefully and placing it in his inner jacket pocket. Patting his robes absently, in the spot directly over the pocket, he got back to work.

  
  



	11. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.

A/N: Another update will post in the next day or two. I have made an Old Year's Resolution (much easier to keep than the standard New Year's resolutions, believe me) to update as much as I can in the next few days and get all four of my stories moving along for the new year.

"Marriage is popular because it combines the maximum of temptation with the maximum of opportunity."

- **Henri Philippe Petain**

Chapter 10

Hermione almost skipped into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. She'd slept like the dead, a deep dreamless sleep, for the first time in days, and felt like her old self again. She smiled a greeting at Harry and Ron as she slipped into her accustomed place at the Gryffindor table and piled food on her plate. Yes, today was going to be a good day.

************

Severus watched Her bound into the Hall and join Her friends for breakfast, carefully noting the healthy colour of Her skin and the lack of purple shadows under Her eyes. She looked like She had slept well, and he almost smiled as he turned back to his breakfast.

Maybe he wasn't as bad at comforting people as he thought.

************

Dumbledore smiled as he watched Miss Granger arrive for breakfast; she seemed to be doing much better this morning. He turned his attention to Severus, not surprised in the least to see his attention on the Gryffindor table. A glance at the Slytherin table confirmed that Severus wasn't the only one who seemed to find the Gryffindors of interest; Mr. Malfoy seemed equally riveted by Miss Granger this morning.

Turning back to his breakfast, he decided to find time to meet with his Potions Master today.

************

Hermione lost herself in the comfortable routine of breakfast, passing food, scolding Ron for talking with his mouth full and listening with half an ear to the members of the House quidditch team boasting about their 'sure victory' in the upcoming Family Day quidditch match against Slytherin House. She was relieved when the first of the post owls began arriving; even in her present good mood, 30 minutes of quidditch talk was quite enough for one day. 

Hermione frowned as a letter dropped to the table in front of her. As expected, the writing showed it was a reply to the owl she had sent informing her parents about the Marriage Law and the predicament the time turner had put her in; she hoped they had taken the news with their usual unflappable practicality. She tucked the letter into her bag to read later in the privacy of her room. 

Suddenly aware of the loud flapping of wings, Hermione looked up to find the silent attention of the entire hall focused on the Gryffindor table. Circling above her head, jockeying for position, were four identical owls. Hermione watched as one took advantage of a sudden opening and swooped down to deposit a letter in front of her; the other three followed immediately and she jumped back as three more letters plopped into her plate. Without looking up, she carefully picked the four missives out of the remains of her breakfast, carefully wiped the bits of food off the parchment and the Ministry of Magic seal and added them to her bag. 

Without a word, she rose, grabbed her book bag and exited the Hall, careful not break into a run until the doors of the Great Hall had closed completely behind her.

Hermione sat on her bed and stared at the five letters lined up on the bed in front of her. Sighing, she decided to tackle the easiest first and picked up the one with her mother's writing on it. Carefully opening it, she skimmed the contents.

**_Dearest Hermione,_**

****

**_Your father and I were horrified, to say the least, to hear about this new situation. There are many days we wish you hadn't been born a witch, and this is one of them._**

****

**_Of course, as usual, that thought is followed by the realization that if you hadn't been born a witch, you wouldn't be our Hermione. We can't imagine what our lives would have been like without you, our sweet, intelligent, brave, loving, magical (in more ways than one) daughter, and so we wouldn't change a thing about you even if we could._**

****

**_That doesn't make it any easier, however, to watch you struggle with things like this. You didn't ask us for advice, so we offer none. You know the wizarding world much better than we ever will, and we trust that you will make a sensible decision and do what's best for you. Just know that whatever you decide to do, your father and I will support you and do anything we can for you. We love you, dear, and will always be here for you, and nothing will ever change that._**

****

**_Take care of yourself, please, and let us know if you need anything at all._**

****

**_All our love,_**

****

**_Mum and Dad_**

Hermione sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye as she finished reading the letter a second time and vowed, for the thousandth time, not to take having such great parents for granted. Giving the letter one last fond glance, she tucked it into the door of her night side table.

Sitting back down on the bed, she eyed the four remaining letters, finally grabbing the one on the far left and ripping it open. 

According to the Ministry, it seemed some wizard named Robin Barrett-Smythe wanted her as his wife, despite the fact that they had never even set eyes on each other. Shaking her head at the absurdity of the notion, she chucked the letter in the direction of the waste paper bin by the desk, mildly disappointed when it bounced off the rim and fell to the floor.

Well, there were more where that came from.

She picked up the next letter and opened it, raising an eyebrow as she read the name of the wizard who had made an offer for her 

hand : Gregor Zabini. Pulling her wand out of her robe, she absently flicked it towards the bookcase and mumbled "**_Accio_** **_Debrett's_**!" neatly catching the book as it flew towards her. Flipping through the pages of the most recent edition of "Debrett's Wizards and Witches" she quickly found the entry she was looking for. Gregor Alistair Zabini was listed as the older brother of Blaise Evelyn Zabini; he had graduated from Hogwarts seven years before and had been, interestingly enough, a Ravenclaw. Tossing the book aside now that her curiousity had been satisfied, Hermione turned to the next letter.

Hermione shuddered at finding the name Bartholomew Bailey Barrington on the third offer of marriage. She had met him at some of the post war ceremonies and gatherings at the Ministry; she couldn't remember exactly what the tall, dour man did there, but she was sure it was something as innocuous as he was. He wasn't good looking – he wasn't bad looking, either, as she recalled, just rather, well, **_grey_**, somehow – but he just stared at people when they talked to him until they walked away, sure he was deaf or having them on. She couldn't imagine why the man was looking for a wife; he really should start with a pet – maybe a small dog, something that would be guaranteed to love him – and work his way up to interacting with real human beings on a daily basis. This time the letter flew true and landed neatly in the bin, pleasing her all out of proportion.

A quick look at her clock informed her that her free period was coming to a rapid end, and she tore into the last letter in haste. She read it quickly, then reread it to make sure she had the name right.

It seemed Viktor Krum, currently the seeker for the league leading Wimbourne Wasps and former boyfriend of one Hermione Granger, had formally requested her hand in marriage.  


	12. Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends  
belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm  
just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and  
they have to get back to their day jobs.

  


A/N: Sorry this was so long in coming, but I got a new computer for Christmas. Unfortunately, moving files wasn't all that easy and I don't have Word on my new Dell (just Wordperfect, which is trying hard to be Word, but doesn't quite make it) and my stories - and writing ability - seem to be reacting badly to the change over. Let's hope we both get over it soon.

  
  


_A sound marriage is not based on complete frankness; it is based on a sensible reticence.   
--Morris L. Ernst _

  
  
  


Chapter 11

  


Severus politely refused a lemon sherbert, tea, biscuits and scones. He wondered, sometimes, if Albus requested these little meetings with people simply as an excuse not to have to eat alone.

  


"Now, Severus, how are things going with Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy? Any problems?" The Headmaster folded his hands on his desk and gazed at Severus benevolently.

  


Few things on earth annoyed him more.

  


Severus scowled. He certainly wasn't going to tell the old busybody about Her breakdown in the potions lab last night. If the omniscient Albus Dumbledore didn't already know about it, he was under no obligation to inform him. "No 'problems' as such, no, but this situation is untenable, Albus, surely you recognize that. Miss Granger is Head Girl; she has better things to do than spend her days trying to resist Mr. Malfoy's heavy handed efforts at seduction. Mr. Malfoy, on his part, should be concentrating on his duties as Head Boy and attempting to conduct himself in a manner which will restore some semblance of respect to the Malfoy name. Instead, they are both the central figures in a melodrama of epic proportions that is completely disrupting their lives - and this school."

  


Dumbledore frowned. "I am sorry to hear that. I'm afraid things will be getting more complicated in the days ahead, rather than less. Unless I am mistaken, Miss Granger will be receiving more offers of marriage from interested wizards with each passing day. There is little we can do to end this 'melodrama,' as you put it, unless she accepts an offer."

  


Severus ground his teeth. "I don't see that happening in the near future." Surely That Silly Little Girl was too sensible to fall prey to some celebrity loving stranger or, worse yet, subcumb to Malfoy's pathetic machinations. "There must be some alternative."

  


"I'm afraid not. The Ministry has made their position quite clear, and now it is up to Miss Granger to make a decision, which will undoubtedly take some time. If I'm not mistaken -" Severus snorted; both men knew the phrase was strictly rhetorical. "- none of her prospective grooms seem to have appealed to our Miss Granger. I fear her standards are quite different from the majority of witches, and she is unlikely to compromise them." Dumbledore twinkled at the younger man over his glasses. "It's a shame you aren't the marrying kind, Severus. The two of you are quite well suited."

  


Severus produced the expected sneer. "That has to be one of the most insulting things you have ever said to me."

  


Unbidden, his mind produced an image of Her, comfortably ensconced in one of his easy chairs before the fire, looking up from Her reading to greet him with a smile at the end of a torturous day of beating knowledge into juvenile brains...

  


"Oh, dear, is that the time? We really must be going or we'll be late for dinner! I'm so glad you made time for this little chat." Severus tried desperately to hold on to his vision only to have it fade, leaving him with nothing but the headmaster's ramblings. 

  


Severus stood. "I won't be going to dinner, thank you. I'm not the least bit hungry. Thanks to some meddling fool's insistence, I spent the entire afternoon in double potions with Slytherin and Gryffindor. With any luck, the pounding in my head may even subside before I get to do it all over again tomorrow. "

  


Dumbledore ushered Severus out the door. "I'm sure the class will be educational for all, Severus. Remember, I'm always available if you wish to speak with me."

  


Severus looked at him in barely disguised amazement. Sometimes he really worried about Albus; he seemed to have forgotten that this little tete a tete was all his idea.

  


Sweeping from the Headmaster's office, Severus headed back to the safety of the dungeon. Lords above and below, how he hated these little 'talks' with the headmaster.

  
  


****************************

An hour later, Severus was happily ensconced in front of the fire in his sitting room, tulip glass of cognac in hand. Bringing the glass to his hawk nose, he sniffed deeply and closed his eyes; he had been nursing the bottle of Courvoisier XO for weeks and the thought of this moment had gotten him through the less pleasant parts of his day. He smiled as the scent of caramel, chocolate, and orange wrapped around him.

He rested his head against the leather of his chair, listening to the crackle of the fire. It was this time last year he'd noticed that the highlights in Her hair and eyes were the colour of good cognac. He had a feeling that, like brandy, She would only get better with age. In the last year, She had transformed from a girl to a woman, a force to be reckoned with. Since the final battle, the change had become even more marked.

Severus raised the glass, moving it gently, breathing deeply. The aroma of caramel, chocolate and orange wafted towards him, but an oaky, nutty note was detectable now, giving it a new depth, grounding the scent somehow.

It was fitting that Her eyes and hair were the colour of oak and nuts; there was something remarkably grounded and real about Her. He remembered the look on Her face as they stood in receiving lines and on dais after dais, receiving medals and accolades, just for cheating death.

He could see that She understood how silly it all was.

Lifting the glass, he took a mouthful of cognac. It slid down his throat, rich and smooth, warming his body and spirit.

"_Claret is the liquor for boys; port, for men; but he who aspires to be a hero must drink brandy_." Samuel Johnson's words echoed in his mind.

It had taken 20 years and an awful lot of brandy, but he'd finally achieved the status of hero. 

A/N: Sorry this isn't longer, but I wanted to get this out ASAP. The next chapter should make everyone (except our beloved potions master, perhaps) happy; I think of it as "Severus Finally Gets a Clue."


	13. Chapter 13

_Dedication: To Shiv, who doesn't know me from Eve, but whose perfect HG/SS stories kept me in the fandom during SIX MONTHS of writer's block (I wanna write just like her when I grow up!); to Inell, whose Quietones Yahoo group and prolific (not to mention really good, deliciously smutty) fiction somehow managed to either resurrect, wake up or replace my long absent muse; to all those who have taken the time to review my stories (on whatever archive they are found on) and/or email with their thoughts and comments, letting me know that all this work actually brings some pleasure and distraction to others, thereby making it all worthwhile. This one is for you ladies, with my heartfelt thanks and appreciation for your talents._

DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends  
belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm  
just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and  
they have to get back to their day jobs.

"_Marriage - as its veterans know well - is the continuous process of _

_getting used to things you hadn't expected."  
-Tom Mullen _

Chapter 12

Hermione woke earlier than usual. She sighed and rubbed her eyes; she'd slept badly, again. She'd spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about the offers she had received, particularly the proposal from Viktor. She was surprised, though they hadn't had a falling out of any kind; they simply hadn't talked – or owled - in ages. Their letters had slowly gotten fewer and farther between once he'd become a pro quidditch player, until the correspondence dwindled off into nothingness. She tried to figure out why he would suddenly make her an offer of marriage but quickly gave up. She simply didn't know him well enough any more to be able to guess at his motivation. As far as she knew, he wasn't required to marry under the new law.

She forced herself out of bed and towards the bathroom, groaning at the prospect of spending yet another day trying to avoid Malfoy.

Draco smiled as he watched her enter peek around the corner before furtively approaching the Potions classroom. Granger was just so darn cute when she was trying to be stealthy. He'd waited in their common room for her until the last possible moment, arriving late for breakfast, then watched the Gryffindor table carefully throughout the meal, but she had been markedly absent. She was obviously still trying to avoid him.

He huffed irritably at the thought. He had no time for this. He'd been patient long enough; it was obviously time for the two of them to have a little ... talk. The sooner she accepted his offer of marriage, the sooner they could start planning the wedding.

He watched her slip into the shadow of an alcove and collapse against the wall, sighing in relief. He drifted down the hallway silently, the black of his robe melding into the shadows, and slipped into place next to her unnoticed. He watched her peer down the hall anxiously, admiring her profile. Yes, his little witch had grown up quite nicely the last few years. His eyes darkened, remembering their kiss in the common room, the way her body had felt pressed against his, how sweet she had tasted.

She sighed softly and pulled back to lean against the alcove wall, still watching the corridor, biting her lip. Draco's eyes watched her little teeth nibble the soft skin and had to suppress a growl. It was definitely time to spend a few moments persuading Granger to accept his offer.

He leaned towards her, her curls brushing his lips. "What are you looking for?" His whisper was soft, mere inches from her ear.

Hermione jumped and screamed as she turned, her eyes wide with fright. "Jesus Christ, Malfoy! Don't _do_ things like that!"

Draco made a mental note to work on eliminating muggle expressions from her vocabulary once they were married. Granted, everyone knew she was muggle born, but it wouldn't do to have the newest Mrs. Malfoy sound like a mudblood.

Draco smirked. "Sorry, love. Didn't mean to frighten you."

He watched, amused, as Hermione smoothed her robes nervously, trying to regain her composure. "Yes, well ... you didn't _frighten_ me, you just _startled_ me."

"Mm hmm," Draco hummed agreeably, turning to face her.

Hermione stepped away from him and hit the stone wall with a grimace, dropping her book bag with a thump."Move, please. I want to get to class early and review my notes. You do remember we have an exam today, don't you?"

Draco managed to smirk and look hurt at the same time. "Oh, please. We both know you could have taken that exam and passed the first day of seventh year; you don't really need to review your notes. Honestly, Granger, if I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't happy to see me."

"I can't think of a single reason why I should be happy to see you, Malfoy." She tossed her hair and moved to push past him, but Draco reached out a strong arm and pulled her back in place.

"Really? I definitely need to remedy that, then, don't I?" He nuzzled her neck gently, delighted at the shiver he felt run through her. "After all, as your husband, your happiness would be my responsibility, wouldn't it?" His tongue swept gently over the soft skin showing above the collar of her white blouse and he exhaled against the newly moistened skin. She shuddered and he pushed her back against the wall, his hands finding their way beneath her robe to settle on her hips, holding her still as he feasted on the soft skin of her neck with his teeth and lips, intent on leaving a mark this time.

No one ignored Draco Malfoy, especially delectable little witches who were destined to be his.

Hermione's hands instinctively settled on his broad shoulders, her fingers grabbing his robe as he alternately sucked and nibbled on the sensitive skin of her neck, occasionally laving it gently with his tongue. A small voice inside her was screaming that this was not a good idea, that they were right outside the potions classroom for Heaven's sake and that that mouth (that delicious, talented mouth) belonged to Malfoy, of all people, but her body was choosing to ignore it.

Bloody hormones. She should have known ignoring them all these years would get her into trouble.

The sudden feel of hot fingers skimming over the soft skin of her rib cage elicited a deep throaty moan and Draco quickly moved to pull the rest of her shirt from the waistband of her skirt to give him greater access, his hungry mouth never leaving her neck. His fingers glided up her spine...

Only to be pulled back with the rest of him by the strong hand gripping the back of his robes.

"What, exactly, do you two think you are doing?" The words were soft but laced with venom and Hermione shut her eyes tighter, hoping to avoid reality for a few seconds more.

"You will do me the courtesy of looking at me when I speak to you, Miss Granger." Hermione whimpered and opened her eyes but refused to look up, unsure if it was fear or embarrassment which made the thought of seeing Professor's Snape's expression so unbearable. Instead she focused her gaze on Malfoy, the back of his robe still firmly grasped by the taller man. The blond looked completely unruffled and, God help him, rather pleased with himself.

She glared at him. Prat. This was all his fault.

"Miss Granger and I were just..." A violent shake of the hand holding him cut off Malfoy's explanation.

"I know _what_ you and Miss Granger were doing, Mr. Malfoy. What escapes me is _why_ the Head Girl and Boy, two students entrusted with the responsibility of enforcing the rules of this school, not to mention being counted upon to set a good example for the rest of the student body, would take it into their heads to indulge in such a vulgar display in broad daylight _right outside my classroom_." His voice was cold, and Hermione blinked away tears.

She had never been so embarrassed in her life. This situation couldn't get any worse.

"I am thoroughly disgusted with both of you. Fifty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin, and I will be speaking to the Headmaster about this incident." Malfoy opened his mouth to protest and was cut off once again by a sharp shake; the hand holding him then let go with a sharp push towards the potions classroom. "Not another word, Mr. Malfoy, or it will be seventy five points."

Malfoy ran his hand through his hair and straightened his robe before grabbing his book bag and sauntering off towards the classroom. Hermione strangled a scream of outrage when he looked over his shoulder and threw her a wink before heading inside.

She glared at the door as it closed behind him. Stupid, stupid prat. This was all his fault.

She turned her attention back to her professor, flushing his eyes ran over her, his lip curling in distaste at the sight of tousled hair and disheveled uniform. "As for you, Miss Granger, I advise you to do something about your appearance before class begins." He swept away in a swirl of robes.

Hermione flushed and tucked her blouse back in with shaky hands before grabbing her book bag and throwing it over her shoulder, shoving her hair back into a messy ponytail as she tried to catch up with her professor. She had to apologize, explain, something...

"Professor, please..." He stopped at the door to the classroom and froze for a moment before turning to face her, his face cold and devoid of expression.

She tried to find words to express how incredibly sorry she was, only to lose track of her train of thought as she felt his eyes on her neck. His expression changed to something she couldn't quite identify and his hand shot out and grabbed her chin, tilting her head to the side. Somewhere in the midst of her shock she managed to note the warmth and gentleness of his fingers before he raised his wand, the tip grazing a spot on her neck as he intoned "Abrogo!"

A warm tingling suffused her skin as his hand released her; he turned and proceeded into the classroom without a backward glance. She reached up and reflexively touched the skin on her neck, suddenly realizing what had happened.

The stupid, stupid, _stupid_ prat must have left a mark. If Harry and Ron had seen it...She shuddered at the thought of how much more complicated things could have become. She sighed and pulled open the door of the classroom. She really was grateful to the Professor, but honestly, a simple "Eximo"spell would have done. She'd be lucky if he hadn't managed to remove every freckle and mole on her body along with Malfoy's mark with the strength of the spell he'd used.

* * *

She looked up from Her exam and caught him staring at Her and immediately blushed bright red, ducking Her head quickly and fastening Her eyes on the parchment in front of Her. Severus forced himself to look away, but his thoughts continued to dwell on what he had seen in the corridor as he paced restlessly between the desks, watching students struggle with the exam with varying degrees of success.

What could She have been thinking, allowing the Malfoy whelp to touch Her, to mark Her, that way? Didn't She realize that She was merely a pawn in a scheme to best his father and improve his image? He intended to use Her; in fact, Severus was willing to bet every last galleon he had that all those who had made offers for Her hand – and he was sure, given Her reputation and fame, that there were many – only wanted to use Her.

Could she possibly be taken in by Malfoy's obvious attempts at seduction? Was it possible that She would end up being the latest Malfoy trophy wife?

The thought made Severus furious, and he loomed menacingly over a few students' shoulders as they wrote, finding the feeling of them quaking before him oddly comforting.

Damn it, couldn't the little know-it-all see She deserved more than all that? She deserved someone who would recognize and appreciate Her brand of subtle beauty, who would value Her brilliant mind and sharp wit and indulge Her love affair with books. She deserved someone who understood how meaningless She found fame and notoriety, who understood how awkward all the attention made Her feel, who would shield Her from a world intent on defining Her life by the happenings of a few short weeks instead of exploiting Her fame for their own ends.

Yes, She deserved someone who would truly appreciate Her for the unique creature She was, who would cherish Her and love Her with every fibre of his being the way he did.

The traitorous thought caught him unawares, hitting him with the force of a rogue bludger. All the breath left his body in a fierce exhalation and he gritted his teeth. His eyes widened in surprise before being drawn to the place where She sat hunched over her exam, tapping the end of Her quill against Her cheek as She wrestled with a particularly difficult question.

Stars above and stones below, he was in love with Her. The world seemed to spin for a moment as the realization sunk in and he took a deep breath to steady himself.

How had this happened? He had spent a lifetime skillfully avoiding entanglements with women, watching with detached amusement as they tried to worm their way into his affections, usually via his bed. First it had been silly little pureblood girls chosen by his parents, then women from the families of his fellow death eaters, attracted by his power and position with the Dark Lord. Lately he had been pursued by foolish women who wanted to 'reward' him for his heroism, convinced that only they could reveal the noble nature hidden beneath his forbidding exterior. He'd taken his pleasure with the less vacuous among them all and deftly eluded the rest, confident that he was immune to the charms and machinations of the female of the species.

Only to fall victim to a guileless, silly little girl.

Severus' lips twisted in amusement; the irony of the situation was not lost on him. The few students who had chosen that particular moment to look up and caught his expression gaped at him in amazement; a quick glower and a raised eyebrow quickly sent them back to work, attention firmly focused on their exams.

He swept up the center aisle of the classroom towards his desk, his robe billowing behind him, and was comforted by the increased tension and barely controlled tremors of fear he felt in the students left in his wake.

At least some things hadn't changed.


End file.
